


Tomorrow Morning

by canticleofremigold



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:07:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25954213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canticleofremigold/pseuds/canticleofremigold
Summary: Elissa Cousland mourns the death of her lover, Alistair. When she discovers she is pregnant with his child, Bann Teagan steps up to help her preserve her honor. They both must grapple with their pain in the aftermath of the Blight and navigate this difficult new relationship.
Relationships: Alistair/Female Cousland (Dragon Age), Female Cousland/Teagan Guerrin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 22





	1. The Morning

**Author's Note:**

> I started a new game and discovered the option to flirt with Bann Teagan. I became obsessed with the implications of this throw-away interaction for a female Cousland warden, and found an interesting story prompt. So, here we are. Enjoy.

Elissa had tried to listen to the maid as the Elven girl arranged her hair, but it was impossible. She sat at the vanity, staring at her reflection in the golden mirror as the girl chatted away to herself. She could not recall the girl's name, or really follow her conversation, so she remained silent. Now and then she gave a faint smile when the girl paused in her speech or checked for her approval of how a small braid lay. They had only met a week ago, when Elissa had formally moved to Redcliffe, but Elissa felt guilty all the same. She was usually so good with names. She studied the girl's appearance. Short red hair, long pointed ears, thin face. Perhaps Isolde would know her.

Isolde had insisted on arranging everything. Elissa had not had the strength to disagree. In the last month she had only recently had the willpower to make herself look presentable, so it was a nice change to have help. But she shouldn't think about that now. Now she felt relieved that Isolde had stepped in to arrange everything.

Behind her, family, nobility, and servants were making such a noise that she could not think. The dressing room was suited for about ten people at most, but at least twenty ladies of the wedding party were crammed in with servants coming and going as well. All morning they had been preening, admiring, curtsying, whispering, snacking. Maker, the snacks. She had turned down six different types of cakes. Usually the room only contained two small couches in the center and the vanity in the corner, more than enough for a guest's quarters. Today two extra couches, many wooden stools, and a low table were brought in. Women stood and sat everywhere, filling the room. The table was covered in cakes, bread, cheeses.

_He would have loved the cheeses._

It was all too much for her to join in, but it was a blessing in a way. After a month doing little more than thinking, she could finally turn off her thoughts by letting the noise around her consume her waking mind. She closed her eyes and allowed the noise to swirl around her. Now one group of ladies was calling a servant to fetch something, another group soothing one of the wedding party with compliments, the girl in question fretting about a loose pearl on her gown.

 _ **And tonight?** _A small inner voice crept in. _**What will you do tonight when you are alone?**_

She stood up immediately, pushing the stool back with a loud scrape and startling the Elven girl. "My lady?" The girl asked, "Are you all right?"

The chatter in the room died down as everyone turned to look at her. She stepped away from the vanity and her eyes swept around the room, taking in the well-mannered, well-dressed women staring at her. Aside from a few scattered whispers, everyone was silent.

"My lady?" The girl tried again, and this time Elissa turned to the girl. Her silk gown rustled and pulled at her as she turned. The long sleeves, long train, layers of silk and cotton and beading, were so heavy, so tight. Her breath was getting shorter. She was drowning in it.

"If it please you, I just need to place one more pin and then you'll be ready," the girl continued gently, with a smile. But Elissa could tell there was concern in her voice, too, just as there was concern written on the faces of all of the ladies in the room. _Are they worried? Afraid?_

"Getting cold feet, Lady Cousland?" young Lady Bonnel chirped from her position on the nearest sofa. She was lounging with her upper body resting on the arm of the sofa, a small cake held in her hand. A lady in green seated next to her grabbed her shoulder and whispered something.

"What?" Lady Bonnel replied, "It happens all the time. At half the weddings I've been to, anyway." Bonnel smirked, her cheerful blue eyes locked with Elissa's as she took a bite of her cake. "Worried about the wedding night?" The lady in green stifled a giggle.

"How _dare_ you!" Elissa shouted. She reached Lady Bonnel in three powerful strides, striking an intimidating pose even with all the fluff of the wedding gown surrounding her. Lady Bonnel and the lady in green shrank away from her, frightened, as did half the room. She stopped. Embarrassment began to creep in. The girl was just joking. She felt hot.

_I must be alone, this was a mistake...Yes, leave...I'll never come back, that will solve everything. Just live in the wilds..._

She didn't notice Lady Renore had come up to her until her hand gently clasped Elissa's forearm, bringing her mind back into the room. "Don't worry, my dear, you just need a break." Lady Renore turned her around and walked Elissa back towards the vanity. She held her hand out the the Elven girl, who gave her the hairpin. "Come," she instructed Elissa.

The two of them walked past the vanity and entered the guest bedroom, closing the door behind them.

* * *

As soon as the door closed, the grief she had kept bottled up all day flowed freely again. A sob forced itself out and before she knew it she was weeping heavily, her head resting on Lady Renore's chest. "I can't," Elissa managed to choke out at last, "I can't..."

"Shhh, shh, you'll be all right," the lady gently rubbed Elissa's back.

After a minute her breathing became calmer, and she raised her head. Her tears had soaked the front of Lady Renore's dress. "Oh, I'm so sorry my lady..." she began.

"Don't worry, child, it will dry soon enough," Lady Renore said. "Let us sit here for a moment." She gestured towards the large red sofa placed near the fireplace. They sat, and Lady Renore produced her handkerchief. Hand in hand they rested, while Elissa used Lady Renore's handkerchief to dry her eyes.

The Renores were close family friends. Lady Renore had known Elissa since she was a child. Elissa remembered going to her for help when she fought with her parents, once riding off in the middle of the night through a storm to stay with her. The good lady was always patient, kind, but firm. They had talked all night, and when they returned in the morning the lady had made her apologize to her father and mother sincerely. Now she was the closest Elissa had to a mother in her life. Elissa wished she could share everything with her, lay her soul bare as she had done when she was a child. As she looked into the empty fireplace, she thought of the rain-soaked girl whining to the lady in her room as they sat before a roaring fire in the hearth years ago.

Her troubles were not as simple as they had been back then. A dead man haunted her dreams. Darkspawn shrieking filled her ears at night, or when she was alone for too long. The blinding light and screaming that the Archdemon had emitted as it died, mixed with her love's final cry of pain, kept her from sleeping. When she closed her eyes, she saw his body fall, his lifeless face.

Alistair.

Her body could not produce any more tears, but the waves of grief were endless.

"Is it really that bad, my dear?" Lady Renore asked. Elissa looked into her eyes and saw the worry in them. "He's a good man."

"I know," she said. "It's not that."

"Is it the Blight? I know it must have been terrible for you, but it is over thanks to your wardens. You need not dwell on it."

She looked down. What could she say? She could not tell anyone about the relationship she had shared with Alistair. It was too dangerous. The months they had spent in mortal danger, always depending on each other for strength and comfort. His smile, his jokes, all of the things about him that used to fill her with happiness, were now too painful to bring up even if she could.

She could not talk about the horror of seeing him die right in front of her. Of not being able to stop him from rushing forward to land the killing blow. She could not talk about the regret she felt, knowing that she had turned down Morrigan's offer to keep them safe.

_**If you had not been so jealous, he would be alive.** _

_Was it jealousy?_ _No. It was blood magic. An evil magic. Morrigan can't be trusted._

_**You were hoping to sacrifice Riordan. So selfish.** _

Lady Renore sighed. "Please, let me speak plainly." Renore took up her hand in both of her own. Elissa met the older woman's eyes again. "You of all people must realize how lucky we all are to be alive. And I need not remind you how lucky you are to have been given your title back. The Maker and Queen Anora have given you so much. Today is a day to celebrate life and the future. Do not let whatever dark thoughts you have now prevent you from feeling hopeful for tomorrow."

Tomorrow. Elissa had not thought about the future in quite some time. The future she had dreamed of after the landsmeet was impossible now.

_**You wanted to have the King. Now you'll have a Bann.** _

_Enough. Enough._

The grief receded a little, enough to be masked. She took back her hands and folded the handkerchief, handing it back to the lady. "Thank you, my lady. You always know just what to say." Elissa forced a smile onto her face.

Lady Renore smiled back, the corners of her eyes wrinkling deeply. _When did she get those wrinkles? When did she get...old?_

She reached up and put the final pin in Elissa's hair. _"_ I always know when you're putting on a brave face for me. But you know what they say, a false smile can sometimes bring real happiness."

* * *

The rest of the morning had felt like a dream. She had returned to the ladies and apologized. They insisted she didn't have to, but they were even more withdrawn from her than before. She managed to keep a smile on her face the entire time.

She exchanged pleasantries with Isolde, thanking her for all of her hard work. At least that much was not an act. She accepted a small blue flower from Connor. He wanted to put it in her hair, but was content to see it placed in the center of her wildflower bouquet instead. The one thing she had requested from Isolde was that there be no roses, and the Arlessa had come through for her. She wished she could feel truly happy for the boy's presence, knowing that soon he would be taken away to the Circle.

She had sat sidesaddle on a horse, riding from the castle to the chantry at the center of town. The townspeople cheered, overjoyed that a Champion of Redcliffe was marrying into the Arl's family. She smiled and waved to them, as expected. When they reached the Chantry she mistakenly dismounted before Ser Perth could come to help her down. The long skirts nearly tripped her. She usually dismounted in armor, or riding clothes. Ser Perth hurried to offer her his arm. She took it, laughed a little, and they walked up the steps together.

Through it all, she felt nothing.


	2. The Afternoon

Standing in front of nearly all of the nobility and the most important freeholders of Redcliffe and Highever, before Mother Hanna, in the sight of The Maker, Teagan still had a splitting headache. The poultice Ser Bering had recommended to him had done little to help. It had been a long time since he had carried on like that, drinking like a man sentenced to death, and the men of his wedding party had encouraged him. Then several knights had joined in, and he did not remember the rest. At least he had woken up fully clothed and in his own bed.

Everything had gone smoothly that morning, but he still felt nervous. He had not spoken to Lady Cousland in private in nearly a month. So much ceremony and tradition had to be observed. They had barely had a chance to greet each other at meals, and they were never alone.

_Has she changed her mind? Is she coming? Is this really happening?_

Teagan tried to control his thoughts. _Every man worries like this at the altar. I think._

He stood to the right of the altar with his men at his back, watching the ladies make their entrance. The Highever women in green, flowing dresses dotted with pearls took their time walking down the aisle, holding small bundles of wildflowers. They were on parade, hoping to find a match for themselves at this event. The sunlight caught the fine beading of their dresses, making a gorgeous sight, but it hurt his eyes. _By Andraste, please hurry._

He understood the reason for all the fuss, of course. Everyone had gone through hell during the Blight. There had been darkspawn everywhere, the threat of civil war, and the loss of so much life, including their beloved king. Redcliffe and Highever had both been threatened by acts of opportunistic evil. Stories like that were coming in from all over Ferelden. Everyone wanted to celebrate peace and return to normal. This wedding was as good an excuse as any to rejoice.

Finally, the last lady took her place in the line across from him. Everyone turned expectantly towards the entrance. A lone figure in a deep blue gown stepped into view.

Teagan realized he had never seen her in full formal dress. If he had tried, he couldn't have pictured it. When he pictured her he saw her as a warrior, fearless and fearsome. Clad in heavy armor, a sword nearly as long as she was tall at her back, she had burst into this very chantry earlier this year, running up to him to offer aid in his darkest hour. _Was I the damsel in distress?_ The thought made him smile. He couldn't recall seeing her much before then, though his brother told her she was quite the tomboy when she was younger.

_**Younger? She is still young. Half your age.** _

That was what really worried him, he realized, the feeling that he was taking advantage of her. That despite her agreement to his proposal, she felt coerced into accepting. Was he really doing the right thing?

He watched her as she took small, dignified steps down the aisle. Her gold hair was ornately done up in circles of braids with gold ribbons and white pearl pins. Her face looked fresh and bright. A coy smile played at the edges of her mouth. Gold embroidery covered the navy silk gown. Gold and navy, her family colors. Isolde always had an eye for such details. The dress was low-cut but tasteful. It was pulled in to show off her waist and...figure. He couldn't help inspecting her midsection. But it was smooth, nothing unusual. Nothing showing. Every inch the blushing bride.

At last she reached his side, and they turned to face Mother Hanna. The ceremony started in earnest. There was no going back now.

To an outsider it must have seemed to be an excellent match. The daughter of a Teyrn and the Bann of Rainsfere. Relations between Highever and Redcliffe would be even better. Rainsfere was wealthy, and with his brother's help they could support the Couslands with money and status as they reclaimed Highever. The Cousland name was famous, made even more so by their role in ending the Blight. Eamon had been delighted with the news. Proud, even. His famous bachelor brother was finally settling down, and with the Hero of Ferelden of all people. Despite her reputation as a fierce warrior, she was by all accounts a beautiful and kind hearted woman. Any man would be a fool to be displeased.

**_But do you love her?_ **

_How can I love a woman I don't know? Anyway, does it matter?_

_**Is that not what you always wanted? A bride whom you loved and who loved you in return?** _

There had been many rumors about his long bachelorhood. That he was gay, impotent, or simply too wild. But the truth was that he had not found a woman he was interested in. There had been casual relations, of course, but as a young man he had cared more for tourneys than for pretty maids. And by the time he was of marrying age he had so many responsibilities. Every relationship with other nobles became a transaction. We make a deal here and you give me help there. I pledge this to you now and you give that to me later. _And this is no different. We both get what we want. She needs me, and I...I can keep the child safe._

* * *

When she disappeared after Alistair's funeral Teagan had been roped into looking for her. He would have done so willingly, anyway, but Teyrn Fergus himself had asked for his help. With a prominent funeral in Denerim every day, sometimes two, everyone was despondent. To lose their hero now would be torture.

She had been wearing her armor and her sword. It was a funeral, but darkspawn were still cropping up near the city. She could have been called away at any moment to deal with them. _Is that what happened? But surely, someone would have alerted the rest of us as well. Unless..._

He caught the sounds of weeping as he walked through the back alleys of the market district. He followed the sound to the door of a warehouse. "Lady Cousland?" He said, pushing open the door.

She was on her knees, breathing deeply, clutching her arms. Her sword was thrust to the hilt through a row of barrels next to her. She did not turn to look at him.

"My lady," he said, kneeling by her side. He went to put an arm around her shoulders but she pushed him away.

"Don't touch me," she growled.

"Forgive me, I meant no offense," Teagan said, moving away. He was shocked. Lady Cousland was usually so stoic, a sharp contrast to Alistair's irreverent charm. "We were so worried when we could not find you. Your brother, especially."

"I couldn't watch," she whispered. "I couldn't watch them burn him."

Teagan gathered his thoughts. He could not look, either. He still felt the heat from the pyre on his skin. He heard the crackle of the flames. The smell...he took a deep breath. "It is difficult, to lose the ones closest to you," he began.

"You don't understand," she said through gritted teeth.

"I understand the wardens are like brothers," he said. "And I know Alistair was a special man in particular."

"What do you mean?" She turned her face towards him and stared into his eyes with suspicion. Her breathing was more regular but her face was still flushed, her eyes red.

"You are not the only one who lost him, you know," Teagan replied. "I loved him, too."

"Who said anything about love?" She said quickly.

The implication of his words dawned on him. "My lady, I do not intend to imply anything inappropriate. I only mean that you two were very close. You were the last of the same order and worked side by side for months to end the Blight. That kind of relationship breeds mutual affection. Not necessarily the romantic kind."

Several tears again fell from her eyes, but she brushed them away. "There's no use hiding it. I did love him. Too much."

 _Ah, the truth comes out._ "Lady Cousland, there is no such thing as too much love. Painful as loss may be, you will look back someday and thank the Maker that you knew him. I know I do," Teagan said.

"No, I...I was stupid. I made so many stupid mistakes and now I have no one left. No one can help me."

Teagan didn't know what to say. "What do you mean? Help you? Any one of us would lay down our lives to-"

"Don't talk to me about laying down your life!" She shouted and stood up, fists clenched at her sides. Her green eyes flashed with anger.

_Foot in mouth, yet again._

She turned away from him but her fists opened. "I'm sorry, my lord, I shouldn't have shouted at you."

"I understand you are grieving," he said, standing, "but please try to understand my position as well. Alistair was like family to me. And I owe both of you a great deal, as a citizen of Ferelden and as one of the people you saved in Redcliffe. I saw how hard you worked to save the village and my family. You did what everyone else thought impossible. If there is anything I can do to help you, I beg you, tell me. Give me the chance to repay you in some small way."

She remained silent, and he did not speak. He could see just the side of her face. She was frowning, staring at her sword. Whatever she was contemplating, it was serious.

"I...we...slept together."

Teagan was taken aback. This time Alistair's behavior shocked him. _That shy boy? With this strong woman?_

"I see," he said at last.

"Bann Teagan," she said his name so seriously. Lady Cousland turned to face him. Her expression was no longer angry, or hurt, or stoic, but something he had never seen nor ever expected to see: she was frightened.

"I thought it was impossible. He told me it was difficult for a warden and a normal person to conceive, and nearly impossible for two wardens together. If my brother finds out, if _any_ of the other nobles find out..."

The full weight of her secret hit him. Hero she may be, but with Queen Anora's decree she had been reinstated as a member of the Cousland noble family. Even she could not get away with having a child out of wedlock.

"Lady Cousland, your secret is safe with me," he said. She seemed no less scared, but perhaps a bit less tense. He couldn't imagine what it was like to walk around with that kind of secret. To attend the funeral of the man she loved while his child was inside her. That thought gave him pause. Alistair's child...

"Thank you, Bann Teagan. But what can I do? What can you do?" she questioned.

"Don't worry, I will think of something. I promise you, on my honor," he assured her. "Give me some time to make plans. I will contact you as soon as I can."

After she wrenched her sword from the barrels, he opened the door to the warehouse and allowed her to walk ahead of him. They headed back to the center of the market district, the wheels in his head spinning.

* * *

Luckily he tuned in again to the Mother's speech just in time.

"...take this woman in the Maker's sight, as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," he said, far more confidently than he felt.

"Then I bid you follow the example of the Maker and his wife the Holy Andraste, and henceforth be known to all as husband and wife. You may embrace."

He leaned in and gently touched his lips to hers. Hers did not move. When he pulled away, the same coy smile remained on her face as if it were painted there. Cheers filled the hall as they turned, arm in arm, to face the crowd.

**_She does not love you. She never will._ **

  
  



	3. One Fall Morning

_Get. Up._

She forced herself to sit up on the edge of the bed. She hadn't left it all day and all night but she was exhausted. She managed to take the brush from the bedside dresser and began to drag it through the ends of her hair. Despite the greasy texture it sounded like dry straw. _I have to be ready._ Bann Teagan had sent for her.

**_Must a man solve all of your problems for you?_ **

The brush tore at knots. Clumps of loose hair fell. Pain tinged her scalp. _Why is this so difficult?_

She opened a desk drawer and pulled out a powder meant for setting ink. Leliana had taught her this trick on the road. By sprinkling it on her scalp as she brushed, the powder absorbed the oils in her hair.

Finally, she had a tidy bun. She went to the wardrobe where only a simple brown dress and the clothes she wore under her armor remained. Most of her belongings were already packed in preparation for the trip to Highever the next day. She slipped off her nightgown and into the dress.

Pain forced her to squint her eyes as she opened the door. She had kept the curtains closed in her own rooms for so long that it took a moment to adjust to the daylight in the corridor. Relieved to see there was no one waiting outside, she set off for the section of the guest quarters where the Bann was staying.

In a haze she wandered down the empty corridors. It felt emptier than before. Colder. Her mind wandered to the last time she had stayed here surrounded by friends. Leliana, Sten, Zevran, Oghren, Morrigan...and him.

_I have no one left. No one to talk to, save the Bann._

Could he be trusted? He was supposed to be an honorable man, but their conversation in the warehouse a few days earlier had made it clear that he was supporting her out of obligation. He was courteous to her because of her high status and the help she had given his people. And she had insulted him by pushing him and shouting in his face. What if he decided it was worth more to betray her? If loyalty to another family pulled him in a different direction? _Why did I tell him, of all people? Why couldn't I just keep it in, be strong?_

She reached the door of his quarters and knocked. A voice called out, "Come in."

Bann Teagan stood in the center of the room. He wore a red shirt with fine gold embroidery, plain black brais, and high leather boots. Behind him two armchairs with a low table between them stood on the rug before an empty fireplace. The curtain was open on the large window to her right, allowing the bright morning light to fill the room. To the left, in the back of the room, an elf took up a silver carafe from a side table.

Without thinking, she saluted the Bann with her arms crossed over her chest.

**_What was that? You're in a dress, stupid._ **

He made no comment though, and bowed in return. "Thank you for coming, Lady Cousland," he said. "Please, have a seat." He gestured behind him.

"Thank you, Bann Teagan," she replied. She sat with her back to the window. The elf walked over and placed a silver cup in front of each chair.

"Thank you, Gerel," the Bann said. "Leave us please."

The elf, Gerel, bowed and left the room. Bann Teagan sat across from her in silence as they listened to his footsteps fade. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together. His thumb rubbed a gold ring on his finger. The tension in the air made the hairs on her neck stand.

When he finally spoke, he didn't look at her. It was in a low, conspiratorial tone.

"I believe we have a month at most. We must act quickly, but I can offer you two options. I will not pretend that it will be easy to choose. I want you to know that I will not judge you, no matter what you decide. Think only of what is best for yourself, and decide based on that alone."

He paused but she gave no reply. She still felt wary.

He took a breath before continuing. "The first involves magic. I do not know how reliable this is, but I have heard of some special methods used by the circle."

Her heart dropped. "Special methods?"

"Yes." He blinked twice, shifted in his seat. "When mages are involved with one another and something like this happens, the chantry often...intervenes. If you wish, I could attempt to pull some strings for such intervention on my behalf. No one need know my partner's name."

She had heard the same stories from Wynne and Alistair about the circle. She would never be in their position, but she understood why many women there would prefer to end a pregnancy than to lose a baby to the templars. Some were given no say in the matter at all. But to do that to her own child, _Alistair's_ child, of her own free will...she felt numb and sick all at once.

He was looking at her, waiting for a response.

"And...the second?"

"The second is to be married, quickly. But I would advise you to tell your brother the truth in that case. It would be a monumental task to deceive him and arrange a wedding both within a month."

Elissa looked at her feet. She felt like a hole was opening in her chest. Was marriage really the only other option? She had stubbornly refused when her parents had tried to introduce any "nice young man" to her in the past. Jumping into a marriage with a man she barely knew would go against the very core of who she was.

**_And Alistair? You knew him for less than a year._ **

_That was different._

**_It was convenient._ **

_Enough._

If she didn't marry, if she went through with this and accepted the shame and ostracization, would they even let her keep the child? Wouldn't they send it away? She'd be losing everything. Again.

She studied the man across from her as he studied his own hands. Although she showed no signs of an answer, the Bann didn't move or speak. His hands were clasped, tense. _What's he thinking?_

"I don't want to be rid of it," she said at last.

The tension released. He looked up.

"It's part of him. It's part of me. I want to keep it. No matter the consequences."

"If you're certain, that's all that matters," he replied. She watched his face carefully as he leaned back in his chair, but it was impossible to read. "I'll do everything in my power to help you find a suitable partner."

"Hold on. That doesn't mean I'll accept a marriage. I know you've been going through so much trouble to help me, and for that I'm grateful. But, because of that, I want to be sure this plan will work. Who would I marry? And should I...is it necessary to tell Fergus?"

"My lady, pardon my bluntness, but Teyrn Fergus is your family. He loves you, and he has a right to know the truth. Besides, if you had any potential suitors before the Blight, he can help make a match."

She shook her head. _He's right._ Fergus loved her. She didn't want to disappoint him, but he would help her no matter what. It still didn't feel right.

"There's not a man alive who will have me," she said.

"A woman as lovely and accomplished as yourself?" His voice became as smooth as silk. "We could find a dozen in Denerim alone. The real challenge will be finding a man worthy of _you_." He arched his brow and smiled.

She did not return his smile. "You're too kind, my lord, but I'm afraid I had no prospects long before the Blight."

"And now that you are the Hero of Fereldan, savior of our world?" he said playfully.

"I am a Grey Warden," she said bluntly. "People are still wary of us."

"The Queen has reversed that decision."

"I am a Warden. There is no turning back."

"I see," he said, his tone serious again. "But if only it were that simple. Then we would not be in this predicament, would we?"

"I must do as the Queen says," Elissa said sharply. "If she tells me to be a lady I'll act as a lady. But her word doesn't alter reality. It can't take the darkspawn taint out of my blood. She may as well order the sea to dry up."

"Taint?" He furrowed his brow.

She sighed. _Might as well._ "Yes. We Wardens...we're tainted with the blood of those things. I don't know how many people in Fereldan know that, but they do know that there's something off about us. You must have sensed it yourself. No one wants to be reminded of darkspawn when there's no blight. Besides, what if the Wardens from Orlais call for me, and I answer? What if they want to punish me for desertion? Suddenly your house is on the brink of causing a war because a noble doesn't want to surrender herself to them. Or because she does."

Silence. She leaned back. He looked away from her. Then his hands were tensed again, this time gripping the arms of the chair.

"If I may be so bold," he said, "I know something that can help you."

"Please."

"It was around two years ago when I last saw your father. I do not know how serious his invitation was, but he did say that he was eager to introduce me to you."

"Oh. Just an introduction?"

"He said I would enjoy your company immensely. And that you were of marrying age."

She was taken aback. Her father had never mentioned it to her. "But-"

"Just a thought," he interjected. "As I said, I believe the best thing for you to do next is to let your brother know the truth. I know that you are set to return to Highever soon. I would not dare imagine how difficult this is for you but please, do not wait too long." He stood and walked around the table to offer her his hand. She accepted it and walked to the door with him.

"Thank you, Bann Teagan, for everything." She turned to offer a small curtsy.

"I will await your answer eagerly." He bowed slightly, smiled. For a moment her gaze was caught on his blue eyes.

She turned and left.

* * *

"Elissa!" Fergus threw his arms in the air as she entered the living area of his guest rooms. "Welcome!" He wrapped her in a bear hug. She squeezed him tight.

"You act as if you haven't seen me in ages," she said, pulling back.

"Well, not too long ago that was true," he grinned. His face had become much more tan and worn after his time with the Chasind. But his eyes and smile were as youthful as ever. He must have been so happy to see her up and walking around.

_I can't do this..._

"Hold on, I'll send for something to eat. You didn't make it to breakfast, did you?" He strode towards the door. He was trying to keep up a cheerful tone, but she knew he was worried.

"Fergus, I came because I have to tell you something. Alone."

"You're right, you have to tell me if you prefer sausage or bacon."

"This is serious."

He stopped. "So is breakfast!"

"No, Fergus, I really mean it."

"I see. You need my help?"

 _S_ he felt it coming, but couldn't stop it. "Yes," her voice broke. _Thank the Maker we're alone._

In an instant he stood in front of her again and grabbed her hands. "Hey, hey, it's all right. Elissa, whatever it is, you can tell me." His concern only made her feel worse. There was a hot lump of iron in her chest, pushing upward into her throat.

"You won't like it..."

"To hell with that. You're my sister." He put his hands on her shoulders and held her at arm's length, looking her in the eye. "You're all the family I have in the world. Now, out with it! I've never seen you like this. I'm starting to worry!" He tried again to be cheerful but it was less than convincing.

 _He probably thinks I'm dying. This isn't_ **_that_** _bad, is it?_

She took a deep breath. "I'm going to have a child."

A wave of shock went over his face. His hands gripped her shoulders hard.

She closed her eyes and braced herself, ready for him to push her away. To be disgusted.

He pulled her in close.

"Tell me everything."


	4. The Evening

Rows of tables filled the main hall. From her seat beside Eamon at the high table, which was on a raised platform, Isolde could easily watch over the hall packed with revelers. The walls were covered in banners alternating between the black and red of Redcliffe and the blue and gold of Highever. People were feasting and drinking with such spirit that Isolde repeatedly called the head of service over to speak with her in hurried whispers. She had prepared a grand feast, but they had run out of cheeses and cakes earlier in the day. It would be a crime if they were short on wine or delicacies to offer their guests after the main meal as well. These people were insatiable. But Isolde refused to lose.

_I have to show these Fereldens how to really celebrate._

Isolde looked down on the lords and ladies seated at the table of honor directly in front of her, particularly at the couple of the hour in the middle. She and Teagan did not always see eye to eye, but she had to admire the game he had played. Teagan's quick move to link the Guerrins and the Couslands in the wake of the end of the Theirin bloodline was nothing compared to the Grand Game in Orlais, but it would be a long time before another family was raised up to match either house. For once, she felt their position was somewhat safe in this cursed country. Blood was stronger than anything.

The final course was at last cleared away. "Shall we start the dancing, my dear?" Eamon asked her, weariness plain in his voice. She knew he planned to dance in the main event, then quietly retire to their chambers. A large part of her wanted to do just that, to spend as much time as possible as a family.

"Not just yet. We have a surprise, remember?"

Isolde stood and clapped her hands twice. The guests who heard her raised their glasses and began tapping them with forks, until everyone at last gave her their attention.

"Honored guests, I thank you all for attending this celebration. Tonight we celebrate the end of the Blight, the end of the war, and the beginning of a new partnership."

Scattered cheers rose up from the tables. She continued.

"My husband and I have arranged for a special gift for the bride and groom. An entertainer of unusual talent, a bard famed for her talents across Thedas!"

She could see Elissa's back straighten. She felt almost giddy with excitement. "Make yourself known!"

Suddenly, directly before the table of honor, a figure appeared in a cloud of smoke. The crowd gasped, then applauded. The smoke dissipated, revealing a slender red-headed woman in a blue silk dress.

"Leliana?" Elissa cried.

"Hello, my lady," the bard said with a grin.

To Isolde's surprise Elissa crawled under the table in a flash. She held the bard in a hug so tight it seemed she would snap her in half. Scattered laughter and whispers traveled around the hall. The bard smiled and whispered some words in the girl's ear. Elissa let her go and scurried back around the table of honor to take her seat. She wore the first real smile Isolde had seen all day. Teagan smiled at her and said something, though Isolde couldn't quite catch it. Then the entire hall fell silent, enraptured by the bard's voice as she began to sing.

When Leliana finished, she again disappeared in a puff of smoke. Loud cheers filled the room.

Isolde stood up and raised her hands until the applause ended. "Let us make way for the music!"

"At last," Eamon muttered under his breath.

The guests cheered and stood, many already wobbly on their feet. They helped the servants push the tables to the sides of the hall. A wave of applause went through the crowd when the musicians entered, playing on drums, pipes, and flutes as they approached the high table. Their leader carried a large wood baton. He was dressed comically in puffy blue clothes slashed with green, red, and white. A large floppy hat with an oversized feather sat on top of his head. The musicians were more sensibly dressed, though still in bright colors to match. They played drums, bagpipes, flutes, and stringed instruments of all sizes. Two men brought up the rear hauling in what looked like a large stringed box on a wheeled table. When everything was in position the music stopped. The leader made a grand deep bow to the high table, sweeping the floor with his hat and making the ladies giggle. Then he turned to the room. He held up his rod, and the drone of a symphonia started.

"By the grace of the Arl and Arlessa of Redcliffe, in honor of the Banns of Rainsfere, let us dance!"

The crowd erupted at the start of a familiar tune. A large circle began forming in the center of the hall.

Lord Clemens from the Southern Bannorn clapped Teagan on the shoulder, causing him to spill his wine. The goblet had entered his hand when he sat down and hadn't been left on the table since except to be refilled. Meanwhile Elissa had hardly touched hers. When a toast was made she lifted it, took a bare sip, and put it down before anyone else.

The lords and ladies were hauling the couple to their feet, dragging them to the center of the circle to begin their first dance. Isolde took Eamon's hand and they went down together to join the outer circle.

* * *

It was late. Most of the guests had retired to their chambers, leaving only a few small groups scattered around the hall. One group was trying to wake a large man sleeping at a table, his face resting in what was left of a pie. Another group was going from table to table, rounding up all of the bottles of wine they could find and trying to finish everything off. At a table to the right side of the high table, Bann Teagan was sitting and making conversation with the Renores. Next to seeing Leliana again, stopping by their table to chat had been the best moment of Elissa"s evening. Then a tipsy Lady Isolde had sent for her. She wanted to share all of the gossip from the interactions of the nobles that evening, so she invited Elissa up to sit in the spot left empty when Arl Eamon had retired hours before. Elissa would rather have listened to her describe every stalk of hay in Redcliffe's stables in detail.

"I'm sure Connor will take after my side of the family in appearance, Maker be praised," Isolde said out of nowhere before she sipped her wine.

"I...don't think I understand what you want to say, my lady," Elissa replied.

"The Guerrin men are not _bad_ -looking of course, but they are a bit...rugged, shall we say? Not unattractive, but not the dashing Chevalier of legend either, no?"

"Oh," was all Elissa could manage to say in response.

"Come now, we are in-laws! You can be honest with me," Isolde said with a wink.

She felt hot. And sick. Why did she have to talk about this? She felt like her very soul was being drained, she was so tired.

"Well...I suppose Bann Teagan-"

Isolde laughed. "His first name isn't 'Bann', my dear. You must stop being so formal." She eyed Elissa critically. "How much did you get to know each other during your engagement?"

"Unfortunately we didn't have as much time to speak as we would have liked."

"Letters can kindle love just as well as kisses, no? Did you write?"

Her stomach turned. "Well, yes, of course. But I've never been very good at writing about my feelings, to be honest."

"Flirtation is a two-way road, Elissa," Isolde said knowingly. "What did he write? Oh, how was his poetry?"

"Ba – Teagan? Poetry?"

Isolde smiled. "He didn't write any for you? I'm told he writes beautifully."

Elissa could at least answer honestly. "No, I had no idea he was interested in it."

"Strange. Though I suppose I heard that rumor a long time ago. Besides, you are the type of lady who admires more the martial arts, no?"

"Yes, that's true. We talked a lot about weapons, armor, strategy, and so on." Not a complete lie.

"How charming!" she said with such enthusiasm Elissa almost believed her. "It's so refreshing to see two people united by a common passion. It must have been so difficult to carry on a courtship in secret!"

Finally, a question they had actually prepared for. "I know, but it seemed inappropriate to talk about considering everything that was happening with the Blight. Or even just here."

"You don't have to remind me," Isolde said, all playfulness gone. She drained the rest of her cup. She slumped forward, her gaze unfocused and pointed at the table. "They will take him tomorrow, you know."

"What? So soon?"

"Just for the wedding. That was the agreement."

"My...Isolde, I'm so sorry." Elissa put her hand on Isolde's. "I wish I could have done more."

"Even you can't stop the Chantry, dear. It's not your fault." She squeezed Elissa's hand. "I should go and see him."

Just as suddenly as her mood had soured, she picked herself up again. "But look at me, whining and despairing on this happy day! Don't mind me. Let's get you ready for bed, hmm?" She stood.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't worry, just follow."

Elissa rose and they descended together from the high table platform. Isolde lead the way down a corridor off of the main hall. The sounds of the party stragglers faded behind them. They stopped at a small door nearly at the end. When they entered there was nothing of note, just a few crates.

"Let's see..." Isolde bent down and began rooting around in one of the boxes.

Elissa was baffled.

"Ah! Here it is!" Isolde straightened up and turned to her. "Here, for tonight."

A tiny glass vial sealed with cork was pressed into Elissa's hand. It couldn't have held more than a thimble-full of red liquid.

"What is this?"

"Don't worry, it's common practice. Especially with an active woman like you. The hard riding and training that maidens like you love so much can make it impossible to bleed."

A shock went through her body. "What did you-"

"Nothing, don't worry! There's nothing to say anyway, right?" Isolde smiled, but her eyes glared: Don't say any more. "I suppose you haven't had much experience with weddings. This is just how it's done. Some honorable ladies simply don't bleed the first time. But, that looks bad. So, when that happens, she uses the vial. Trust me."

"I see," she said, relieved. "Thank you, Isolde. I couldn't have managed this day without you."

The Arlessa beamed at the compliment, her face flushed with wine or excitement, or maybe both. "I'm so glad I could help you on this day, Elissa. And...I haven't forgotten what you did for me, for my son. In truth you were like family to me from that day."

Elissa was moved. She had entered Isolde's life at its lowest point. Living in the castle before the wedding had allowed her to see Isolde in her element, juggling a thousand tiny things and keeping up a smile. _Will I be able to do the same?_

"Now, tuck that away and let's return. The Bonnel ladies say they won't leave until they escort you to your chamber themselves."

* * *

Lady Bonnel had linked her arm with Elissa's and was pulling her along the corridor. If Elissa hadn't been so hindered in her gown it would have been easy to keep up. On her left side Bann Teagan's hand gripped hers. He couldn't keep up with the group either, stumbling as a lord she didn't recognize pulled him along. The whole party of guests was shouting and laughing and pushing, forcing them to run to their room together in a mob. As they passed through the corridors some doors opened, revealing guests who heard the commotion. Some shouted as they passed. Everyone was a blur.

Wynne had told her once of this tradition. Elissa remembered her words: "Apparently the bedchamber run was originally intended to ensure that the married couple consummated their union. People used to actually force themselves into the room itself and strip the couple of their garments, can you believe it!"

_Thank the Maker I live in modern times._

Elissa saw the door of their quarters rapidly approaching, straight ahead. No one showed any signs of slowing down. Better put on the brakes.

She put all her weight into her heels, driving backward against the people behind her. The mob ground to a halt two feet from the door.

"Come now, it's time to enjoy yourselves!" The mystery lord shouted. He let go of Bann Teagan and jumped to the door, pulling it open. It felt like a wave was pushing them forward. Many pairs of hands shoved against her back, thrusting her and Teagan through the doorway. Then the door was slammed shut. They heard loud cheers from the other side. Beside her, she heard her husband's heavy breathing.

They were alone.

"Well, I haven't had a run like that since my nephew convinced me to hunt nugs on foot!" He said, taking a few uneven steps into the room. "When was that, again? Last year? Before? It's been far too long..." He trailed off. He slipped off his red suede shoes as he walked and began unbuttoning his shirt collar, weaving as he walked to the side of one of the armchairs by the hearth. He slipped off his red velvet jacket and dropped it on the floor.

"So long..." he said wistfully, turning and looking at her. Rather, he was looking in her direction but somehow didn't see her.

She waited. He seemed poised to say something. Then, like a felled tree, he crashed onto the chair.

She released a breath she didn't realize she had been holding.

From the side door the same Elven girl from earlier that morning entered and curtsied. "Evening, my lady. Allow me to help you with..." she trailed off when she spotted the Bann sprawled awkwardly across the chair. "Should I wake him?"

"That won't be necessary. I'll take care of it," Elissa replied.

"I see. I suppose he deserves a good celebration!" she said cheerfully. "If it please you...?"

It took a moment for Elissa to catch up. She was here to help her undress. In this room. Now.

"Oh, of course. Thank you."

She walked to the far side of the bed. She slipped off her shoes and faced the corner away from the hearth. She felt the fabric become looser around her shoulders and stomach as the girl unpicked the stitches that held the skin-tight dress on. It had irritated her all day, but now she wanted nothing more than to keep it. She focused on her breathing. _In for ten seconds, out for ten seconds, keep the tears from falling._

The skirts were so full that the elf had to push the dress down in order for Elissa to step out of it. The girl gathered up the fabric and stood. "Let's get those pins out of your hair," she said as she folded the dress as best as she could and laid it on the bed. "They must be giving you a headache by now."

Elissa again sat at the dressing table. She felt awkward, staring into the mirror at herself in just her small clothes, and a bit guilty. The poor girl had spent so long arranging everything just that morning, and now she had to pluck out every pin and untangle every braid. _What a waste._

Finally her hair was undone and the girl took a step back. "Will you be needing anything else, my lady?"

Elissa turned to face her. "I'm so sorry, but could you remind me of your name?"

The girl looked surprised. "Shaela."

"Shaela. I'm sorry for earlier. I was so...stressed."

Shaela smiled. "Don't worry my lady, I understand. I look forward to serving you in Rainsfere."

_So, that's why Isolde hadn't known her._ "Could you tell me about Rainsfere?"

"Is there anything in particular you'd like to know?"

"Anything you have to say would be helpful. I've never had the pleasure of visiting."

"Let's see...it's not far from here. But it is much colder. It's mountainous. And...hmm..."

"Please, do go on. As you can see, we're in no rush," Elissa smiled, trying to put the girl at ease, and gestured at the armchair.

The girl looked down. "Begging your pardon, my lady, but I am expected to help clean up the kitchens..."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I must have had too much to drink myself. Please, be on your way, and forgive me for troubling you," Elissa said. _Why on earth would she want to stay here and talk to me in my small clothes, with my new husband passed out on the other side of the room?_

"It's no trouble, my lady, just doing my job. Good night," Shaela said, as she backed away and grabbed the dress from the bed before she hastily withdrew from the room.

On the bed a thick nightshirt and a dainty nightdress had been laid out side by side. She quickly removed her small clothes and wiggled into the nightshirt. At last she looked at the back of the armchair. No signs of movement came from the visible legs and arms dangling on either side of it. They had not explicitly discussed what they would do on the wedding night, but she had assumed that he would at least be conscious and that they would talk.

_Oh well, I'll just have to wake him up early._ She crawled into the bed alone.

She lay on her side and stared at the wall, watching the light from the fire dance over the stones. She traced the grooves in the stone with her eyes to keep her mind busy until she fell asleep.

* * *

_AN: to be honest I really don't like this chapter, but I felt I had to get it out of the way in order to move forward with the story. I'll probably come back and change it later. Thank you for your views and reviews!_


	5. Dreaming

Elissa woke up far too early. Darkness surrounded her. She heard a gentle wind rustle the trees. The hairs on her neck stood up. She could feel that the darkspawn were nowhere near them, but the ability to sense them had made her much more alert to any potential danger lurking outside.

She reached above her head to lift the tent flap and craned her neck around to peek out into the night. The campfire had died down, but she could see the shapes of Sten and Oghren sitting by its feeble light, keeping watch together silently. The stars above the trees shone brightly in a deep navy sky. It almost looked peaceful.

A cool breeze entered the tent and Alistair grunted. She pulled her arm back under the blankets and huddled closer to his warm body. He rolled onto his side and she was enveloped by warmth again as he draped his arm around her.

"Ugh...five more minutes..." he grumbled, eyes still closed. Somehow he was always able to block out the call if sleep was on the line.

She closed her eyes and focused on the warmth of his bare skin against hers, the faint smell of sweat and furs, the rhythm of his gentle breathing. It was comforting, safe. She began to drift into the fade again.

The warmth grew. It was hot. Too hot. She heard distant screaming and smelled rotted, burning flesh. Alistair's breathing turned to choking. She opened her eyes.

His face was all she saw. A burning white light blotted out everything around them. His head jerked and neck convulsed as he struggled to breathe. She was trapped beneath the blankets and his arms, forced to watch the flesh melt like a tallow candle and run down his face to reveal muscle and bone. His head jerked back as his eyes dissolved and beacons of the burning light shone out of his sockets. His mouth gaped open and the light shone out from it, too. Teeth bared and cracked as his lips peeled back, blistered, and blackened. The screaming reached an ear-piercing level. Somehow, his voice whispered to her.

She couldn't move. She couldn't look away. She could only scream.

* * *

She awoke and bolted up in bed, gasping back the scream in her throat. Disoriented, she scanned the room as she tried to get her breathing under control. Dresser, wardrobe, door, sofa, fireplace. She remembered where she was. As her eyes adjusted she made out the shape of a man sleeping on the sofa by the fireplace.

Her stomach turned. She tried to be quiet as she rushed to pull out the chamberpot from beneath the bed.

A jolt of alarm went through her when his voice came from behind her. "Water?" He asked gently. She hadn't even heard him approach.

"No," she gasped. "It's done." He backed away.

A small towel appeared in her peripheral vision. She took it with a nod of thanks. Teagan withdrew from her again without a word.

When her mother had given her the "where babies really come from" talk she had mistakenly gotten the idea that morning sickness was not a daily occurrence. It hadn't been so bad when it started two weeks ago, but she had woken up the same way every day this week. Only the nightmare changed.

Last night's horror briefly appeared in her mind. She straightened up quickly, picked up the chamberpot and walked to the rear window.

"An announcement must be made soon," Teagan said softly as she returned to the bed and slid the chamberpot back into its place. He had returned to the sofa where he slept and sat in his nightshirt, rubbing his eyes. She tried to look at him as little as possible before they were dressed.

He was right. Again. The servants were no doubt starting to take notice of the...evidence she was leaving under the rear window. And soon they'd notice other things amiss.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"It's just the family, right?"

"Yes. For now."

"Then I'll be fine. Let's draft the letter together this morning."

"As you say," he replied.

_As you say? Does he not believe me? It's fine. I'll be fine._

He stood up again and went to the wardrobe where he began pulling out his clothing for the day.

They had adopted a morning routine rather quickly after moving to Rainesfere. Teagan would take his clothes into the adjoining dressing room to get ready by himself. Then he would return to the bedroom and Elissa would go to the dressing room. It turned out they both preferred to get ready themselves rather than rely on servants, so this arrangement worked out well. The only thing she hated was the cold. The winter snow had come and Rainesfere lay deep in the mountains. Even with the fires going, getting dressed meant feeling chilled to the bone.

She busied herself with putting the blankets back on the bed. From the corner of her eye she saw Teagan struggle a little as he reached up to the top shelf in the wardrobe. Yesterday he couldn't bend, today it seemed he couldn't reach.

"Teagan, about the sofa..."

"Yes?" he grunted, pulling down an undershirt.

"I've thought about it and, after we make this announcement, I'll have another bed brought up. We could say that I'm having trouble sleeping with the baby coming and I need the extra space."

"And spoil the lovely layout?"

"Please, you've made enough sacrifices for me. You deserve to be comfortable in your own home."

"I...can't object. This old back isn't what it used to be."

"Nor shoulders, apparently," she said with a smile. She turned and happened to catch his eye.

Teagan did a double-take, then he smiled back. Her stomach knotted. She turned back towards the bed and smoothed the covers.

The whisper from her dream echoed in her head again.

_**Don't leave me.** _

* * *

Teagan was rubbing his eyes again, this time in frustration. The vellum sitting on the desk in front of him was still blank. "All right, once more: 'To my dearest brother, and our dear Isolde,' is that acceptable?"

"I suppose," Elissa replied.

"You suppose?"

"I told you, I don't really know how these things are announced."

"Nor do I."

"Right. Well, how about, 'My dearest brother and his wife Isolde'?" she proposed.

"Should it be 'my dearest brother' or 'our dearest brother'?"

"He's not my brother."

"Fine, 'To our dearest Eamon and Isolde'?"

"No titles?"

"Do you call your brother Teyrn Fergus?"

Elissa buried her face in her hands.

Teagan took a deep breath. "Gerel!" he shouted.

The sound of scrambling footsteps came from the next room. The elf ran into the room and made a quick bow, almost a nod. "Yes, my lord?"

"Gerel, how do we usually address the Arl and Arlessa of Redcliffe?"

"In person or in a letter?"

"A letter, man, a letter!" Teagan said, waving the quill in his hand.

"'My dearest brother and Lady Isolde,' my lord."

"Good, good, thank you," he said, scribbling on the vellum. "That's all for now." Gerel's footsteps returned to the next room.

"Right, now we have that out of the way, the rest should be easy."

Elissa let out a short laugh. "Yes, easy."

Teagan continued writing. "Allow me to write this message first. If you approve, please copy it over for your brother."

"Very well."

She looked around his office as he wrote. It was much more cramped than she had expected. It wasn't small, but it was overfilled. The walls were lined with shelves, all of them packed with books. The windows were the only break between them aside from the door, and even there small shelves had been added beneath the windowsills to hold scrolls.

"Are all these books for your work?"

"Not entirely," he replied, without looking up. "I've collected some interesting texts for myself over the years."

"Any poetry?"

He paused and looked up at her. "Are you fond of poetry?"

"Somewhat. I heard you enjoy it, though."

"Ah, in my youth I did. Maybe there's a stray collection around here somewhere." They both fell silent as he returned to the letter.

When he was finally done he dusted the letter with setting powder and slid it across the table to her, offering her the quill in his other hand.

She took the quill from him and without hesitation began copying the message over for her brother, changing only a few words as she went. She focused on copying letter by letter as much as she could, trying not to think of the meaning of what she was writing:

_Dear Fergus,_

_My husband and I write to you with happy news. The Maker has blessed us..._

After copying the main body she paused at the end, just before the signatures. It was a perfectly proper letter, one that could cause no offense to anyone. Anyone close to her would know that she didn't write it. She added her own message at the bottom:

_Please send Aldous to us as soon as you can. The four-legged one, that is. He must be getting to be quite a handful. Do give my love to the two-legged Aldous as well. I hope he is still torturing the youngest of Highever with history lessons to his heart's content._

_Signed,_

_Lady Elissa Cousland and Bann Teagan Guerrin of Rainesfere._

Seeing their full names written out in ink made her pause. The last time she had seen her name written on official documents had been at the Landsmeet, "Grey Warden Elissa."

_Is this really who I am now?_

_**Don't leave me.** _

She hastily scrawled a signature beneath her name on each letter, dusted them, then passed them to Teagan to sign. When they were folded and sealed he called Gerel over again.

"Remember, these are to be sent out without delay," Teagan told him, placing the letters in his hand.

"Yes, my lord," Gerel replied.

"My apologies, for earlier," Teagan said.

_An apology?_

"No need, my lord. I'll send these out right away."

Gerel did his nodding bow and Teagan waved his hand. The elf faced Elissa and made a proper bow. "My lady."

Elissa waited until Gerel was out of earshot before speaking. "He's quite casual with you."

"Does it offend you?" His expression was almost bored, but his eyes looked directly at her, asking for a response.

"Not at all," she said. "It's a bad sign when a lord's servants are uncomfortable around him."

Teagan smiled. "I'm glad you think so."

She looked out the window to her right. "Anyway, he was very helpful. Titles and protocol always give me a headache."

"I understand completely. I depend on poor Gerel too much on occasions such as this." He began shuffling papers around on his desk.

"You must have some sense for these things, though. You've been ruling Rainesfere for decades now."

"Yes, and every year there are about a dozen new titles to remember. If it weren't for Gerel I'd be a disgrace at every major function. He has a good memory for faces and names. Who outranks who and so on. You put the wrong Ser above another in your address and suddenly everyone's up in arms."

"Sounds terrible."

"I've survived worse. Now, any other plans for the day?"

"Just training," she said as she stood up.

"It's snowing."

"I know."

"Enjoy yourself."

"Thank you."

She left his office and headed for the armory. His concern, however small, irritated her. She passed some servants on her way down the corridor. They curtsied and told her good day, but she knew they were judging her as she walked past. They judged her for wearing her under-armor and a surcoat around the castle in the mornings instead of a proper dress. They judged her for training daily. They judged her for having water and bread in the afternoon instead of tea and cake. They judged her for keeping to herself and never going shopping in the town.

_Let them judge. I don't care._

_**It's a bad sign when a lord's servants are uncomfortable around him**._

_Enough._

She entered the armory at 8:00 sharp, as usual. A week after settling into the castle she began training again, pushing herself to do it every day. Some days she couldn't be bothered to even wash her face, but training was a must. She couldn't go soft.

Teagan's page, a young boy named Devyn, was ready for her. Unlike her clothing, her armor required help to put on properly. He didn't talk much, but he knew his way around armor and whetstones. After Devyn helped her fasten everything into place, he fetched her practice sword. The boy was small, perhaps around ten years old, and struggled to keep the great sword from dragging on the ground when he carried it. But he insisted on doing it. "I wouldn't be a proper page if I didn't," he'd said, when she told him it wasn't necessary. She couldn't fault him for his determination. Maybe someday he'd be a knight, and he'd need that willpower for far more difficult tasks.

She strapped the sword to her back and stood. For a moment she felt light-headed. As soon as it passed she headed towards the door. Devyn hurried to wrap a large wool scarf around his neck and grab a skin of water from beside the door before following her outside.

She walked through the snow to the three training dummies set up in a triangle. The snow was only shin-deep, enough to be a challenge but not impossible to deal with. She heard Devyn struggling through it behind her, the water sloshing around in the skin with each step.

She took a deep breath and unsheathed the sword. She started with simple warm-ups. The sound of wood-on-wood echoed off the castle walls. After a few minutes she moved on to her usual drills. It felt good to empty her mind of everything but the sound of her sword hits and the image of the wounds she could inflict on her enemies.

_Thwack._

_Beheaded._

_Thwack thwack._

_Cut hamstring, severed arm._

She paused. She had hardly started and already felt dizzy again. After a moment she started again, hitting harder than before.

_Thwack thwack._

_Ribs broken, throat pierced._

It was violent, and it felt good.

* * *

_A.N.: I can't believe I almost forgot about Dog! Let's pretend he was just resting in Highever :)_

_I'm also reading more about the Guerrin and Theirin family histories. It's really interesting but AAHHH my brain!_


	6. Mind and Body

Teagan stood at the window beside his office desk, watching her as she hit the dummies over and over, tracing patterns in the snow as she wove between the three wooden figures. The sound of her training had started at just past 8. Now it was nearly 11 and she was still going.

_Longer than usual._

**Why do you care?**

She stopped her practice, holding the sword over her shoulder. Devyn ran out to her through the paths she had carved in the snow, offering her a drink. When she lifted the visor of her helmet Teagan could see her breath coming out in clouds of steam. Even from this distance he could see the blonde hair stuck to her forehead and shadows of dark circles under her eyes. They seemed to be getting darker by the day. He wasn't getting much rest, either. Most nights it felt as if they were both lying awake for hours, each pretending to sleep purely for the benefit of the other.

“My lord?” Gerel stopped reading the letter he had received that morning. “Shall I continue?”

Teagan realized he hadn't been listening. “No, thank you. You can leave it on the desk with the others. I'll read them over later.”

“As you say.” Gerel set the letter down and walked over to peer out the window by Teagan's side.

“Are you worried?” Gerel asked.

“About?”

“It's pretty cold.”

“I'm sure she knows her limits.”

Gerel paused. “May I ask a question that might be impertinent?”

“Of course.” Teagan prepared himself. Gerel had been his right-hand man for years, a servant in name only. If he had to ask permission to ask a question, it was going to be something personal.

“Is this her…normal temperament?”

Teagan turned away from the window. “What do you mean?”

“She's a fine lady. Saved us all from the blight, and she's been perfectly civil to me. But…I don't think I've heard her speak more than two words to anyone except you since she's arrived. Is that usual?”

“I’m sure she’ll adjust eventually,” Teagan replied in an effort to cut off the conversation.

“Are you sure?”

Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. “Why wouldn't she?”

“I mean, if I were her, I'd be feeling lonely. Moving out here with no family, no friends. And now there's a child on the way. The first one’s always a bit scary.”

“You’re a thoughtful man, Gerel. But you needn't worry.”

“Yes, my lord. Indeed, congratulations are in order, aren't they?” Gerel said, grinning playfully.

“No need for all that, either. Did you finish the filing yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Please go and see to it. I'll be here if you need anything.”

“Shouldn't I say that to you?” Gerel said, backing away. Teagan smiled at him but made no reply.

Once Gerel left Teagan returned to his desk. A large stack of letters sat waiting for him, as usual. He pulled the first letter off the top of the pile and tried to push what Gerel told him out of his mind. She’s a grown woman. No need to hover. He scanned through the fluff, searching for the crux of the lengthy message. Near the center of the page he found it, some dry proposal about adjusting the tax rate on imported shipments of root vegetables.

The sounds of Elissa's training resumed outside. Shortly after the sound of the bells in town striking eleven drifted up to the castle.

_And what would be the point of going to all this trouble if I just let her train herself to death?_

He dropped the letter and ran his fingers through his hair. Then the next letter in the pile caught his eye. A shiver went through him. He picked it up and read it carefully, making sure he was really reading what he thought he was reading. Upon reaching the end he lowered it to the table. There was no denying the message.

Wardens.

He stood and immediately began making his way to the armory.

* * *

When he entered Elissa was sitting on the bench opposite the door. She was breathing heavily with one elbow resting on her knee, one hand on her thigh. Most of her armor was already off. Devyn was behind her, struggling to unbuckle her gorget. The boy looked up. “Hello, my lord!” he shouted happily. Elissa turned her head and nodded in his direction.

“Hello Devyn, Elissa. Enjoying the snow?”

“It's so cold!” Devyn said, “But Lady Elissa had some good hits.”

“Thank you, Devyn,” Elissa said.

Devyn finally got the buckle open. Elissa pulled the gorget away from her throat and handed it to the boy. “What will you do tomorrow?” Devyn asked her.

“I think today is going to be our last training day for a while, Devyn,” Elissa said.

“Why?” the boy cried.

“You said it yourself, it's getting too cold out,” Teagan said quickly. Elissa glanced at him.

“Ok...” the boy seemed disappointed.

“Be a good lad and get that armor polished, all right?” Teagan said.

“Yes, my lord,” the boy said. He walked to a large table in the back of the room to set down the armor.

Elissa stood. She brushed the sweat-drenched hair away from her face. She was wearing only the clothes she called her under-armor: a quilted fabric shirt and pants made to provide some protection between her skin and the heavy armor. Teagan had seen similar, boxy styles before, but hers seemed more intricate. The seams and lacing were unique to her body.

He realized too late that he was staring at her. He looked her in the eye as she walked towards him, past him, and grabbed her wool surcoat off the wall.

“Did you come to do some training yourself?” She asked as she slipped her surcoat on.

“I wanted to know if you'd have tea with me,” he replied.

“Oh.” Her tone shifted.

He spun around to face her. “I know you usually prefer to be alone,” he began.

“I'd like to. But, uh, I would like to get cleaned up first.” She gestured at her hair.

“I don't mind waiting,” Teagan said.

“Very well. I'll meet you in the sitting room.”

“Wonderful, see you there,” Teagan replied.

She gave him a brief smile before she stepped out of the room.

Teagan turned back to Devyn. The boy was laying out his cleaning tools on the table. It felt like it had been years since Teagan had stood beside him, explaining each tool and its use. Now that he thought about it, it had really been only a few months since he had taken in the urchin from the street, a boy who claimed he learned fast and didn't shirk any hard work. He had told the truth. He worked hard, learned quickly, and had grown like a weed with a steady source of food and a warm place to sleep.

_I should have done the same for him. Not left him to sleep with the dogs._

He had not thought about it for a long time. They both had put it past them years ago. The memory came flooding back to him, now, all the same. Alistair, barely past Teagan’s knee, pointed to the kennels as they walked around the castle grounds at Redcliffe on a sunny day. The small boy told him that he liked sleeping in a pile with the dogs because they were so warm. Teagan clenched the boy’s hand too hard as his heart broke in two. He remembered Isolde’s cold glare when he confronted her later that day. The anger that flowed through his veins when his brother sighed and claimed he was doing all he could. Emotions so vivid, it was as if he were transported back in time.

They had put it past them. Teagan could not find the right time to broach the subject, to tell Alistair how he really felt. Now he never would. He felt an ache like an old wound deep in his chest. _Did he know, in the end?_

“Are you doing all right?” Teagan asked Devyn, breaking out of his thoughts.

Devyn looked up from his work. “Yes, my lord. But what will I do for the winter? Should I still come up to the castle every day?” Teagan saw the worry in his eyes.

“Of course, Devyn. You're needed here,” Teagan said with a smile. _I won't abandon you._

Devyn smiled back. “Yes, my lord. I'll be here every morning!”

“That's a good lad,” Teagan said. He returned to the hall, shutting the door behind him and looking around to be sure no one was watching before he hurried to the kitchens.

* * *

Elissa was relieved that the meal was her usual bread and water. It was simple and it didn't turn her stomach. Had Teagan taken note of her preferences, or was it the kitchen staff who remembered? She didn't know how to bring up the subject, nor did she want to. She and Teagan sat in silence for most of the meal, aside from exchanging some initial comments about the weather. _Why had he made such an offer? Was it just to keep up appearances?_

She felt bad for Shaela. The poor girl stood in the corner, waiting for them to finish so she could clear the plates. The silence must have been awkward for her as well.

At last, Teagan cleared his throat. “I can't help but wonder why you suddenly decided to stop training.”

“It wouldn't be proper now, or safe,” Elissa said. “I've been feeling dizzy lately.”

“Couldn't you try some modified drills?”

“Well, I suppose. But I think it's better to take a break for now. Maybe after...this is over.”

“I don't want to pry. But I know you'll have to sacrifice a lot more in the coming months. I don't want you to lose any more freedom than is necessary. If we put our heads together, I'm sure we can think of something to keep you busy.”

“What, busywork? I’m already attending to things around the castle.”

“I mean a hobby. I won't presume to know what you like. But I do know this castle and this area. We can get you whatever you need.”

She hesitated. “I'll be all right, Teagan, don't worry.”

He paused. His shoulders tensed. “Elissa, that's not good enough.”

“Excuse me?” Her question came out sharper than she intended. Shaela shifted towards the door.

Teagan seemed unmoved. “I know I can't tell you what to do with your life, but I'm...concerned.”

“Con _cerned_? What -”

“You're not sleeping, you're not eating enough, and now you're giving up your one hobby. I don't want this castle to become a prison for you.” His words came out in such a rush. She wondered how long he had been keeping them held back.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. _He's just trying to be kind. Don't get mad._

She set down the cup on the table and addressed the fire. “Believe me, I know I've been unpleasant to be around lately -”

“That's not what I -”

“It's OK, really. I want to do something about it, too. It's just. Hard.”

He sighed, releasing the tension in his shoulders. “You don't have to do it all alone, you know."   
  
For a while they both said nothing. "Tell me, what did you do in your free time at Highever?” he persisted.

If she were honest, she could hardly remember. Maybe she was trying not to. “Riding, sparring, training. I did some studying, of course, but that was because of Aldous.”

“Your mabari?”

She laughed a little. “No, his namesake. My tutor.”

Teagan nodded and chuckled. “I take it you didn't care for his lessons.”

“I didn't care for his lesson style. Or lack of style. I'd do some reading on my own if I had the free time and he wasn't stalking around the library.” She suddenly felt the urge to stop talking. _He doesn't need to know all of this._ She reached for the final piece of bread on her plate and stuffed it in her mouth.

Shaela hurried forward, quickly gathering the plates before escaping from the room.

“I find that books are much more enjoyable when one is free to choose the subject,” Teagan said. “If you'd like, you could look at the collection in my study.”

“That's generous of you. I suppose it's good to exercise mind and body, both.” Just let this conversation be over.

“That's the spirit. How about some historical records to start with? I found an intriguing one just half a year ago.”

She looked at him and smiled politely as he explained the record. Something about his body language caught her attention. He grasped his cup in one hand and gestured with the other, leaning forward. His back wasn't straight as a rod, like it usually was. His eyes seemed more animated.

“What do you think?” he asked her.

“Yes! That's perfect,” she said, with not a clue what he had told her.

“Wonderful. You should come down whenever you're free. I'll set them aside on the desk for you.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” she replied.

Teagan nodded, then shifted in his seat. “I also received some news today,” he began, “about the Wardens.”

Her stomach tensed. “What's happening?”

“The Queen has granted them the Arling of Amaranthine. A group of them will soon take up residence in Vigil's Keep.”

Arl Rendon Howe's face appeared in her mind, first smirking as he lied to her father hours before killing him, then twisted with hatred as he lay dying on the stone floor of the dungeon in his Denerim estate. “I see,” she said, trying to maintain a neutral tone. “So, they are coming from Orlais?”

“Yes.”

_Meaning they will pass through here_. “Are you worried?” she asked.

“No. I can't imagine they would cause trouble when they were just formally invited to return for the first time since the civil war. But I thought you should know.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “Do you want to extend an invitation to them?”

A part of her ached to meet them. The people Alistair loved so much that he considered them his family. And, in a way, she thought of them as sharing her blood. But there was no way of knowing if they felt the same about her. She still had no contact with them.

“I don't know if it would be safe,” she said. “It would be a good idea to wait and see if they approach us, first. Once they hear the news, that is.”

“A wise choice. I don't know how my own brother is taking it, to be honest. He may come calling with questions, and not necessarily the friendly type.”

Maker, was everyone going to hate them? “That's a surprise. He seems to be a kind man.”

“Quite, but he certainly will have questions about the first known baby born to a Warden mother. Eamon was always interested in magic, but he's had a hard time trusting anything to do with it since...everything that happened with Connor. I can't say I'm not wondering myself about how this was even possible. But I will not put you or the baby at risk, I swear that to you.”

“I know. Let's leave it at that for now, then. I'm sure we both have more pressing things to do today.”

“Right. Thank you for joining me.”

“No, thank you. I was...glad to have your company.” Somehow it didn't completely feel like a lie.

Teagan stood up to leave. “Any time. I'm looking forward to your thoughts on the Hinterland Accords.”

_Right, the records. Thrilling._

* * *

_A.N.: Sorry for the wait! I should be back to my usually monthly posts from now on. Thanks for sticking with me so far._


End file.
